The vile privileged class. The female deskmate, as a relatively traditional and diligent good student, had an extremely poor impression of Ci Ye. She usually avoided him, minimizing contact as much as possible, fearing she would get into trouble. In stark contrast, she liked Song Fu very much.
A girl who was serious about her work, had good grades, and was pretty too—sitting together with her even allowed one to smell a fragrant scent. It was pure bliss. If they could sit together forever, that would be great!
In the last evening self-study session, the weekly exam results reflection class meeting took the stage as the finale.
The homeroom teacher displayed everyone’s scores on the multimedia projector, evaluating them one by one from first place to last.
For the current first and second places, he had nothing much to say. He cleared his throat and said that competition was a good thing; the two should continue to improve and strive for their best in the upcoming monthly exam. For last place, Ci Ye, he had even less to say—only one requirement: don’t cause trouble.
At the end, he brought up the sports meet. “Everyone should sign up actively and participate enthusiastically to contribute to the collective. It’s next Wednesday. If you haven’t signed up, I’ll draw lots for you then.”
There would be no classes on sports meet day, and there were events to watch—it was one of the rare relaxing times in this dull school life. Most students showed longing on their faces, and Song Fu was no exception.
The System had said that the sports meet phase was an important plot node, the time when the female supporting character discovered the female lead’s budding feelings.
During the sports meet, to help the female lead better integrate into the group, the homeroom teacher assigned her the task of taking photos.
Ever since the female lead was heroically saved by the male lead last time, her pure desire to help and make amends for him had undergone some subtle changes. She couldn’t help paying more attention to him, and unknowingly, the camera filled up with many photos of the male lead.
The female supporting character borrowed the camera to take a group photo with friends and noticed the abnormal number of male lead photos. Raising her eyes, she happened to see the female lead shyly handing water to the male lead. By a twist of fate, the female supporting character discovered feelings that even the female lead herself hadn’t fully realized.
Taking photos and handing water—how innocently youthful. Song Fu sighed inwardly, then turned her head, wanting to sneak a peek at the pair who should have been building their relationship, only to fall into thought: ‘…’
‘Are they drawing the 38th parallel?’
The System observed for a moment: [It seems… yes.]
It quickly found an excuse: [Even the closest two people can have their squabbles, right? The bickering sweethearts dynamic is very common.]
Very reasonable. Song Fu accepted this explanation and withdrew her gaze.
…
“Song Fu turned her head just now,” Zhu Chenxi said very softly.
Ci Ye automatically assumed Song Fu was looking at Zhu Chenxi again.
It must still be because of the grades. He hadn’t expected Song Fu to still be second this time. Why had she transferred to their class? If she had gone to the next class, she would at least have been first in the whole class. Ci Ye lowered his voice: “Have you ever thought about switching classes? Class B isn’t bad actually—it’s closer to the stairs, more convenient for meals.”
Zhu Chenxi understood the subtext that he wanted her to leave and twitched her mouth. “No.”
Ci Ye sincerely suggested: “You can think about it now.”
Zhu Chenxi thought there was no need, and Ci Ye deeply regretted this, not hiding it.
“Our class still has me in it. The next class is full of good students.” The homeroom teacher had said that when dividing classes, the dean announced a condition: if they wanted the top student Song Fu, they had to take him along too. Like a deadweight tag-along…
Ci Ye pursed his lips.
Zhu Chenxi fell silent.
It was precisely because Ci Ye was in this class that she had come.
It rained lightly the day before the sports meet, but the temperature didn’t drop—instead, the last two clouds were chased away.
Class A’s spot was poorly located too, directly under the sun from around ten in the morning. Some covered their heads with school uniforms for shade; others simply left their seats to chat with friends from other classes.
Song Fu and her friends stayed put, using a notebook to play Go-Moku.
“The homeroom teacher said each class needs at least ten cheering banners. Has anyone in our class written any?” A classmate who had just watched the high jump returned, scanning the few remaining people. “With just us left, one each? Best to cover every event. I’ll do long jump—what about you all?”
Song Fu drew a circle on the notebook, connected five in a row, and raised her right hand. “I’ll do running. Can I borrow the homeroom teacher’s phone to copy some?”
“No need to borrow his.” The classmate opposite grinned brightly and pulled out her phone. “I got mine back from the homeroom teacher first. He said just for today—have to hand it back after the sports meet.” Some boarding students handed in phones at the start of term to contact parents during breaks without hassle.
The group huddled together, finished copying the banners, then started playing games.
Song Fu squinted, searching for Zhu Chenxi’s figure.
Her arm was nudged twice. Turning, it was her deskmate, grinning with gossip in her eyes, not sure what she was thinking. “It’s almost time for the boys’ 1000-meter. Wanna go watch together?”
No one had signed up for that event back then; it was settled by lottery, and the unlucky draw was Ci Ye. Since it was the male lead’s event, the female lead Zhu Chenxi should be there too, right? Thinking this, Song Fu nodded and stood. “Sure.”
Her deskmate grinned, clenching her right fist. “Let’s go cheer someone on!”
A question mark popped up over Song Fu’s head. Why was her deskmate so eager to cheer for Ci Ye?
In the plot, wasn’t she the only vicious female supporting character?
Once there, Song Fu quickly understood—her deskmate said she was there to cheer, but didn’t say for whom—
“Lu Qunwen!”
The equally unlucky Lu Qunwen turned at the sound, waved, grinned brightly, but didn’t forget to complain. “It’s so hot today. If I come last, don’t laugh.”
Song Fu was seriously pondering if cheering for another class was inappropriate. “We won’t. If you come last, our class will only thank you.”
Lu Qunwen, who understood, pulled a bitter face.
Ci Ye, in the lane next to him, looked even more displeased—like someone owed him millions or his wife had run off. His thin lips pursed in displeasure as he looked at Song Fu, eyes full of resentment. “Can’t you look at your own classmate? I’m dying of thirst. I want water after the run.”
Setting aside the tone of the first sentence, the latter was obviously intimate.
This stunned Lu Qunwen, who had overheard, and his smile faded.
But Song Fu took it well, seeing nothing wrong, even showing off the mineral water in her hand.
Were these two that close?
Lu Qunwen didn’t have time to think as the chat time ended. The starting gun cracked, and the figures on the track vanished like arrows loosed from strings.
“Let’s wait at the finish line.” The deskmate linked arms with Song Fu and pulled her along. “With you there, Lu Qunwen won’t really come last, right?”
Song Fu: ?
Was her presence that big a factor?
Song Fu, who had lived more than a decade beyond a real high schooler, easily read the subtext: Lu Qunwen had a crush on her.
But, real or not?
Song Fu tilted her head, gave up deeper thought. Even if true, as long as that last windowpaper wasn’t pierced, she didn’t need to respond. “Better pray our class doesn’t come last.”
The homeroom teacher had declared before the meet: if their class took first, he’d use the bonus to buy treats for everyone.
At the finish line, Song Fu finally spotted Zhu Chenxi’s figure. Seeing the female lead holding the camera, she breathed a sigh of relief and quietly stood aside. She waited until Ci Ye crossed first, then reached out. “Done shooting? Can I use the camera?”
“Oh, sure, here.” Zhu Chenxi handed it over without hesitation.
Song Fu asked one more thing. “Did you get water?” Forgive her for not seeing any.
Zhu Chenxi shook her head.
…How to hand water without any? Song Fu simply gave her own water to Zhu Chenxi and started fiddling with the camera.
Ci Ye walked over, panting, and stood right in front of Song Fu. “I got first—did you see?”
“I saw.”
“Where’s my water?”
Song Fu pointed at Zhu Chenxi beside her, head down as she kept flipping through the photos.
Zhu Chenxi handed over the water, and Ci Ye said thanks.
Song Fu flipped through the camera from start to finish, finally getting the unwelcome news: no photos of Ci Ye.
But why? Even one would do—how come not even half a face? Even the homeroom teacher’s Mediterranean scalp was there. Unable to figure it out, she asked directly, “Why didn’t you take any photos of Ci Ye?” Pure curiosity, no accusation.
Ci Ye raised a brow.
Zhu Chenxi opened her mouth, glanced at Song Fu’s ponytail, then at the matching hair tie on Ci Ye’s wrist. “Can I say it?” Not everyone liked jealousy, but she really didn’t want to get between a little couple as a third wheel—who understood?
Song Fu put bewilderment on her face. “What’s unsayable?”
Maybe bad angles or lighting, so they didn’t turn out well? Song Fu raised the camera, snapped a shot of the person in front of her, and concluded that with a good enough face, any shot worked.
Lu Qunwen, having heard the exchange, tugged at his stiff smile. “It’s not like you have to photograph everyone, right?”
Song Fu lifted her lashes. “But Ci Ye just finished his event.”
She had deliberately waited until after he crossed the line to take the camera. Or was it still too early? Song Fu handed the camera back and asked Ci Ye: “Besides the 1000-meter, did you sign up for anything else?”
“Nope.” Ci Ye was straightforward.
Song Fu: “…”
Ci Ye hesitated. “Or should I sign up for one now?”
Zhu Chenxi fidgeted with her fingers off to the side, regretting not taking more photos of Ci Ye. She had only considered the jealousy factor, not that others might want a memento too. The homeroom teacher assigned her the photo task, so she should have left at least one shot per participant.
Song Fu wouldn’t think she was targeting Ci Ye, would she?